CRACKED

TWO MINUTES LATER

Why Meg? Why would you do this? His voice sounds broken. As if he’s actually just realizing how far ‘round the bend I’ve gone. He hasn’t even called backup yet. Men are useless. One little thing and they drop everything, only to forget what they were doing in the first place.

It is, however, an excellent question. I can’t remember the last time someone asked me that particular inquiry…

I like this look on him, don’t you? The old one was so…blah. I giggle quietly. And it’s been a while since it was Meg… Though I suppose you would remember that better than anyone. I say darkly, all hints of amusement gone. I suddenly hate that he’s here, pleading with me, breaking down in front of me, silently judging me.

This is sick and twisted, Meg. Or maybe not so silently. But this isn’t you. Tell them you’re faking.

I’m afraid I can’t do that, buddy ol’ pal. They’d lock me up forever. I animate grabbing jail bars and tugging at them. Not that they haven’t already. But this much comfier than being manhandled in the showers everyday. Besides, that would be lying. You and I both know I. Hate. Liars.

It’s not lying, because this isn’t you. He sinks to the floor pitifully. I know you. You’d never do this to me. The woman I knew, the Meg Port-

Don’t. You. Dare. I say, suddenly at his neck with the pocketknife Jonathan was stupid enough to carry on him. Daniel stands slowly, his hands up. I push the knife more forcefully into his jugular. Not enough to cut the vein, but enough for a thin line of red to appear.

He looks into my eyes and then down at my hand. You wouldn’t.

That’s right, Daniel, try my patience more than you already are. Good plan. I growl, done with his stupid mind games. That’s my job dammit!

He says nothing so I continue. You always did have a problem accepting what was right in front of you. You hate the truth... Which is why we would’ve never worked out, darling. You always believed whatever little lies I spun you, but when it came to realities you wouldn’t hear it.

He smiles, but it’s not happy, it’s tortured. I inwardly role my eyes. Like wanting to marry me, right?

Any good will I had toward Daniel quickly evaporates. I clench my teeth and something in my mind snaps. That’s it. I mutter, and quick as lightning I grab his gun from the holster and smack him upside the head with it, the anger built up towards him magnifies the hit tenfold.

He lands with a thud on his stomach. With all my might, I roll him onto his back. I take one look at him, anger rising again, and step down on his nose. Hard. I hear a sickening crack as blood gushes from his now broken nose, and I smile to myself. But it’s not a happy one either.

For icing on the cake, I grab his radio and turn it on. White noise meets my ears, as all is quiet. Not for long.

Ksssh! I say, squawking like a radio receiver. This is Officer Daniel O'Callaghan on level four we have an escaped prisoner. Patient 2249. This is not a drill. This is not a drill! I laugh shrilly and throw the transmitter against the wall.